


Tempora Mutantur

by VelvetKaisoo



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Jongdae is a dumb rich bitch, M/M, Unreliable Narrator, Zhang Yi Xing | Lay is a Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 09:56:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21408283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetKaisoo/pseuds/VelvetKaisoo
Summary: If there was one thing Jongdae was confident in, beyond his own impressive social standing, it was his ability to discern the two types of people from one another: the predators and the prey.And tonight, his prey of choice was enjoying the chase.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28
Collections: EXO MONSTERFEST 2019





	Tempora Mutantur

**Author's Note:**

> ~Prompt T78~  
I'm so sorry to the prompter for this mess, it's sort of nothing like what you asked for or probably wanted since I totally misinterpreted it, but... I just wanted to make an homage to XingDae Nation, yanno?  
Also, I want to thank the mods to the moon and back for their endless understanding and patience!! They really keep the world turning. :)  
Cheers S and T, as well as others who took the time to quickly look over parts of this <3
> 
> Warnings: coarse language, mentions/ingestion of blood, unreliable narration & blatant ignorance.

The plucking of a harpsichord harmonised with the stable waves of a cello, and the fluttering melody from a trio of violins became the perfect backdrop as Jongdae entered the grand space behind towering double doors. Stepping from the corridor and out onto the private upper balcony, he stood behind the carved banister to look down upon his hard work. From his height above the main room, the suited men that chatted in close circles looked like little more than hand painted nutcrackers decorated in precious metals and fabric, and the women appeared as dolls lost in the magnificence of their swirling dresses as they floated over hardwood flooring.

Jongdae rolled his eyes as he continued on to inspect the sides of the room. The gold leafing and intricate engravings on the crimson walls were his favourite from all the venue options, but the restoration of the hall had seen hardwood floors placed instead of marble. Of course, this particular location had always had the coated timber flooring, even before the fire had ruined half the building, but Jongdae had been hopeful the redesigners would have some taste. Alas, apparently not.

At least the reconstruction had much nicer chandeliers installed. The current candle chandeliers were large and imposing as they loomed over the gathered vampires. The biggest and best hung over the centre of the room, featuring a blood red chain stem and curling thick golden arms that cradled crystalline light along its fingertips. Jongdae could stare at the ceiling all night, especially given the disappointing state of the flooring.

“Jongdae, you little shit.”

The vampire leisurely slid his gaze over his shoulder, though he already knew who had spoken. That exact wording seemed to be their preferred greeting, as of the turn of the new century.

Do Kyungsoo stood to his right, followed by two other mutual friends. His black suit was, in classic Kyungsoo style, a blend of cashmere and wool. It shone slightly in the light but fitted his figure as best anything could. The one piece of flair the twelfth oldest vampire of Seoul had forced himself to endure was the collage of blue peacock feathers that covered the suit jacket’s lapels in a luxurious plumage.

“Nice to see you're comfortable enough to dress down, Twelve.” Jongdae took great pleasure at watching the shorter man's left eye twitch at the use of the moniker. “That's not even a three piece.”

“Better than wearing breeches and a Christmas bauble, _host.”_ The bite in the words was ignored in favor of addressing the poor understanding Kyungsoo clearly had over eighteenth century fashion.

“Firstly, they’re _jodhpurs_ not breeches, and this isn't a bauble! It’s a vintage Victorian brooch that fifteen men died over, I'll have you know.”

Kyungsoo barely had time to re-open his mouth before another voice joined the conversation. As Junmyeon spoke, he walked over to join Jongdae by the banister and looked down at the mingling guests with a patient smile.

“Now, now. You promised no fighting, Kyungsoo. Though I would appreciate it endlessly if you wouldn't call him that, Jongdae.”

The host sighed as he evaluated Junmyeon's clothing with a subtle side glance. The dress pants and cotton shirt were uninteresting but his satin-lined vest was anything but. The dusty pink garment was covered with what had to have been hand embroidered lines of green and curls of pastel pinks and reds that formed the vision of vines and wildflowers climbing up his torso, accented by cloudy pearl buttons. It was natural and soft, yet eye-catching in its humility: something so Junmyeon it was vaguely annoying.

“You know you're wasting your breath, Myeon.” The monotonous voice of the fourth person was gentle enough, but Jongdae could still hear the exhaustion underneath and he wondered how Kris would survive the night if he was already losing his patience. “No matter how many times you tell him, he won't stop placing unnecessary value on ranks.”

“Unnecessary? That's easy for you to say, you're sitting pretty at number four!” Jongdae whirled to face his taller acquaintance with what he assumed was a scandalised expression. “Some of us have to k– ... Some of us are lucky to even be able to host the annual gathering!”

Kyungsoo snorted at his outburst and crossed his arms over his chest. “Lucky? I'm grateful _not_ to have to organise the stupid parties. I mourn every death of my older brethren only because it puts me a ranking closer to the top ten.”

“Kyungsoo!” It was Junmyeon's turn to act scandalized, it seemed. “I know you're only joking but that's still too far, especially seeing as where we are.”

While Junmyeon chewed Kyungsoo out as if he were his child as opposed to another multi-century old creature of the night, Jongdae analysed Kris's wardrobe. Unsurprisingly, he wore virtually the same thing as Junmyeon but with only a different vest. Where Junmyeon's was soft and smooth, Kris’ was cold and jagged. It was a harsh, crisp white embroidered with geometric spikes of gold. A wall of long gold tassels poured off his left shoulder, and with his combed back hair he looked ethereal. Next to Junmyeon, they definitely stole some of Jongdae's spotlight.

When he looked back up and caught Kris's eye, he made sure to not say any of those things, though. Instead: “Did you absolutely _have_ to dress the same? You're not ten year old twins, you can't pull off matching outfits.”

“And you can pull off a red and gold Hamilton suit, _Ten?_ The feather in your hair's not too much?” Though the words were teasing, Kris’ tone maintained the same flatness. He always had a sneaky little smirk when he said those sorts of things, and it made him far harder to be mean to than the other two.

“I look damn good in a cravate, and that's a fact.” Jongdae raised his head with a practiced air of superiority and turned back to the railing before Kris saw the hint of his genuine smile.

“The rest of the ensemble was just an excuse, then?” He heard the words over his shoulder but didn't turn back. He had organised a fancy dress ball, with emphasis on the fancy. It was only to be expected that he – as both the host and a member of the esteemed eldest ten of Seoul – would be wearing one of the most flamboyant costumes there.

“Hey, Kyungsoo!” A new, horribly grating, voice boomed across the space. It covered the melodious flute solo that was currently playing, and Jongdae felt any traces of a smile vanish from his expression. “I lost you for a minute there, but I just realised I never asked where I had to go.”

“Ah, Chanho.” Jongdae whirled around with a fake grin and patronising tone, his arms out as if he were going to hug the newly turned vampire. “Little fanglets like yourself are to report to the kitchen for waiting duties, and under no circumstances must you be seen loitering with anyone of any importance.”

Kris and Junmyeon had begun speaking softly to each other a few feet away, and once they were in their bubble they were hard to separate. Meanwhile Kyungsoo stood nearby with a scowl and crossed arms, watching the conversation but not interrupting.

A glance down the tall vampire’s body, and Jongdae sighed in relief. At least the nitwit was wearing the appropriate black suit attire. “I’ll show you to the kitchens,” he said, motioning Chanho out the double doors before turning back to his old friend. “I hate you so much for turning him, even if it was an accident.”

“Maybe there was some merit to it then, after all,” was all the response Kyungsoo gave before the host floated out into the hallway.

Down a staircase and through another corridor, the two made their way out into the main hall. Jongdae made quick work cutting through the crowd with Chanho on his tail. He only gave short nods and ephemeral smiles to guests as he passed, planning on talking to them on his way back.

“Now, fanglet, the head waiter will fill you in on your duties and responsibilities for the night when you report to them for–” Jongdae glanced behind him, his gaze catching on something just over Chanho’s shoulder. There, a dazzling radiance called to him. A burst of aura so powerful the host couldn’t help but stop in the centre of the room. It was beautiful, a mirage of grace over the desert of timber flooring. His attention was _ensnared._

The chattering voices and mellifluous music tapered out and all movement in the room slowed to a standstill. The marvel was a marble statue draped in a mural of malachite, accented by pure moonlight. A polished emerald amongst common quartz. It– _he_– was a collector’s dream. Jongdae had never seen anything so captivating. Even his Victorian brooch that eighty-two people died over dulled in comparison.

“Uh, Mr Jongdae..?”

The tenth oldest vampire in Seoul was only half brought out of his reverie by the inquiry. He was more _made aware_ of his words as they were spoken than he was consciously _choosing_ them. “Good gracious, who is that piece of fine dining?”

Thankfully the centre of his focus hadn’t noticed any unusually long stares sent his way, although a part of Jongdae had hoped he’d be able to _feel_ the eyes on him. He’d look around for a moment before he’d find Jongdae’s gaze. They’d lock and the mystery man’s mouth would fall open slightly, immediately as enamoured as the host was...

Alas, he remained standing closer to the band, blissfully unaware as he spoke with another man that faced away from Jongdae. The flute of pink-gold champagne bubbled in his hand’s cradle, and a long silver earring shimmered with each tilt of his head. His gelled hair was carved from black onyx, contrasting perfectly with his pale complexion and angelic features.

“Is that man over there what you’re looking at, Mr Jongdae?” The exclamation was too loud and obvious for Jongdae’s liking, and he parted his eyes from the oasis he was focused on to glare wooden daggers at the waiter. Unfortunately Chanho didn’t notice, as he was peering over his shoulder with a thumb rudely pointing in the direction of the gorgeous man.

Jongdae whacked him to regain his attention, and smiled in apology to the nearby guests that looked over when the fanglet yelped in pain.

“That’s Sir Mr Jongdae, to you,” the host said when Chanho looked down at him with a hurt expression. He was almost endearing, with his big puppy eyes and sad pout, sort of like a child that just dropped their ice cream on the ground. You feel sympathetic until you see the ugly smear of chocolate around their mouth and up their cheek, and any sympathy is replaced with disgust and relief that they’ll no longer be able to make the mess any worse.

“That was really mean of you, Sir Mr Jongdae.”

He sighed in response and turned around, continuing on to the kitchen. The dragging steps behind him were the only indicator Chanho had followed him. There was no further conversation between them, and Jongdae pushed through a set of relatively plain double doors for use by the servants in a matter of minutes. He wordlessly left Chanho in the hands of the head waiter, some eighty year old vampiress he hadn’t bothered learning the name of.

When he returned to the main ballroom _Tales from the Vienna Woods_ was playing and Jongdae could feel a bubbling sort of excitement fester at the base of his stomach. It surely meant he needed a drink, there was no other explanation for it.

He plucked a full flute off a tray accompanied by a waiter, not bothering to acknowledge them as he passed. A little further down the hall Jongdae caught glimpse of a blindingly white vest, close to the buffet. He immediately sauntered over in that direction, surprised to find only two of his friends talking.

“Where’s the stain?” Jongdae didn’t bother announcing his presence, though he politely nodded to the third member of the conversation he’d walked in on when he noticed them.

The man, Suck-Chin, wore a tweed three piece suit with a purple bow tie, and that alone was enough for Jongdae to not think him worthy of any social elegance. That, and the fact the forty-fifth oldest vampire in Seoul was terribly dull, but liked to think himself _quirky._ Jongdae never spent much energy on him.

When the host looked back at his friends, Junmyeon was looking down, inspecting his vest with a roving hand. “What stain?”

“He means Kyungsoo,” Kris commented. He gave Suck-Chin an apologetic smile before he took a large sip of his crimson beverage. “And he’s gone off to socialise, I would expect. That is the point of tonight, isn’t it?”

Jongdae felt his eyes narrow on their own accord. Irascible, torpid Kyungsoo would certainly not go to ‘socialise’ of his own volition. He’d only shown up to the annual gathering because Jongdae had hosted it. Not to show his support, but so he’d have the perfect opportunity to ridicule him should anything go wrong during the night. He was probably hiding in the lavatories, or one of the storage rooms further back in the building. Jongdae pushed the thought aside to turn to Suck-Chin. Or course, with as fake a smile as he could manage.

“Dear friend, I do believe I heard Jeonji asking after you.” He didn’t give anymore than that, only continuing to smile until the younger vampire took the hint.

Suck-Chin opened and closed his mouth a few times before looking to Kris. Eventually he seemed to accept his blatant ejection from the conversation and bowed slightly to the three older vampires. “Very well.”

As soon as he’d walked off, Jongdae took his place right in front of the pair of remaining vampires. Kris was visibly debilitated by his own apathy, taking another swig of his drink while Junmyeon stood next to him with a confused frown. The latter was clearly displeased by Jongdae’s rude action, but he at least looked open to an explanation before he told him off.

“There is only one vampire in this hall that I am unfamiliar with,” Jongdae began. He took a sip of his own rosy drink, humming in satisfaction as the saccharine notes of champagne blended and contrasted with the deeper, richer tone of iron. He wondered how much better the taste would be off his emerald’s tongue. “And I need to rectify that, post-haste.”

“Oh!” Junmyeon’s undignified exclamation startled the host, jolting him out of much more desirable thoughts. His smile bloomed and he held a hand over his chest, the other subconsciously clasping Kris’ elbow. “Yes, I knew you’d rise to the occasion! To be a good host and member of our society it is integral to care about all other vampires – not just the ones in positions of power. I’m proud of you, Jongdae, really.”

“You give him too much credit, Myeon.” Kris seemed to see right through Jongdae to his most impure intentions with one disinterested glance. It wasn’t particularly impressive, seeing as Jongdae was in no way trying to hide them. He never did. “I doubt it’s out of the goodness in his heart. Especially when it’s a lie; he knows the name of none of the staff here tonight.”

“That’s untrue!” Jongdae was quick to defend himself, raising his chin with a self-satisfied grin. “There’s Chanho.”

Junmyeon took no longer than a full second to wither into a disappointed hunch, his hand falling out of the crease of Kris’ elbow limply. In contrast, the taller vampire had his sneaky little smirk back in place, and Jongdae was surprised to see it. He looked completely exhausted by his company only moments earlier, but now he almost looked the most alive he had in centuries.

“Either way, I happen to know who it is you’d be unfamiliar with.” Kris didn’t keep Jongdae in suspense long, he wasn’t one for theatrics. It was probably his least relatable trait. “Zhang Yixing, originally from Changsha, currently living in Beijing with rank twenty-two.”

_Zhang Yixing._ Yes, he approved immensely. It was exotic, it was luxurious. It rolled off the tongue with an impish whisper, a promise for a good time. He would most certainly remember it, especially if the night ended in his favor. He hid the cheshire grin behind the rim of his glass, taking a slow sip. The liquid swirled around his mouth satisfyingly. Indeed, who cared if the floors were a hideous timber, it was going to be a great party.

“How is it that I’ve not made his acquaintance, and yet you know so much about him?” Jongdae returned himself from his conspiring thoughts, enjoying the soft clarinet of the current medley playing.

“He’s an old friend from when I used to live in Beijing.” Kris gave a soft glance to Junmyeon beside him, who looked exaggeratedly interested in what the taller was saying. They were standing so close that gold tassels were crashing over delicate wildflowers and Jongdae felt the threat of nausea settle over his stomach. “He couldn’t make it to our tea party last year but he was available for your’s this year. He’s my plus one, technically.”

What good news. A personal connection was an important thing. Besides, as both the host and a higher ranked vampire, Jongdae would surely have Zhang Yixing tripping over himself with his desire to talk to him. It was just perfect. One of few reasons not to regret befriending Junmyeon all those long centuries ago.

With no more than a dismissive wave, Jongdae spun on his heel. The tails of his lampas liseré coat fanned out gratifyingly as he moved, and he strode over towards the band in time with the swaying of the violinists’ bows. Faces every shade of familiar passed in a boring blur, but Jongdae managed to keep an amicable smile upon his face, as he always did.

Getting through the crowd of people wanting to thank him for his efforts on the talentedly organised state of the gathering took longer than he had hoped. But once his predacious eyes landed on the tide of green that broke waves over an alabaster shore, he was almost glad for the long break since he’d last seen Zhang Yixing. It made it all the more pleasurable to see him again. In that moment, Jongdae knew nothing could dampen his mood.

Famous last words they were, as Jongdae got a side profile of the man opposite Mr Zhang: _Luhan._

He was wearing a pin-striped suit (of course he was, Jongdae very vocally despised pin-striped suits) in a combination of pink and cream. Garish. Luhan looked like a candy cane without the twist, and the host clenched his jaw when the thought occurred to him. The only time Luhan and Jongdae had ever had a perfectly civil conversation was eons ago, when the Yule hard boiled lollies were first popularised. Jongdae had told the older vampire he hated them.

It could be a coincidence, if it were anyone other than Luhan. It wasn’t anyone else though, so it seemed he was looking to ruin the host’s night, as he did any night he showed his face in front of Jongdae. His jaw clenched tighter.

“Ah, Luhan!” Jongdae opened his arms as if about to hug the Chinese vampire, but moved no closer than socially necessary and dropped them after he'd garnered the attention of both him and Jongdae's acquaintance-to-be. Luhan turned to him with raised eyebrows and a cunning smile. “I hope you're enjoying your evening.”

“Of course,” replied Luhan, pointedly evaluating Jongdae's attire. “You always put on an absolute _show,_ don't you?”

The host didn't listen to what he said after that, if there was anything. He turned to Zhang Yixing with a honeyed smile.

Seeing him up close was so much more rewarding than staring from halfway across the ballroom. The god of a vampire was wrapped in a green suit which Jongdae could now identify as crisp velvet, accented by sleek black lapels and cuffs. The black satin bowtie shone under the chandeliers teasingly, while all his silver jewelry glinted and winked. A quick glance gave notice to the single dangling earring in Yixing's right earlobe: a lion's head of white gold swung from a chain, its emerald eyes piercing even while lifeless.

“How rude of Luhan not to introduce us.” Jongdae extended his empty hand palm-down in Yixing's direction, awaiting either a shy glance of fingertips or a brave kiss to his ring. He purred his next words. “I'm Seoul’s tenth-ranked: entrepreneurial _Kim Jongdae._ I’m sure you’ve heard lots about me.”

Mr Zhang smoothly slid his hand into the host's, bypassing the intended interaction and gave a very modern handshake. No matter. The cold touch set Jongdae's skin ablaze all the same.

"Zhang. Yixing."

From the precise way he said the two words, Jongdae could already tell Yixing was a quiet intellectual: a worldy vampire of few words. The vibration of his tone reverberated all the way down the host's spine.

"An absolute _indulgence_ to meet you, my emerald."

Yixing's neat eyebrows raised in interested as an entertained smile graced his face. Luhan, unwanted and off to the side, scoffed at the interaction but Jongdae took no pleasure in it as he usually would. He was far too busy being hypnotised by the little dimple that had appeared on his new companion's right cheek. The juxtaposition between the innocent feature and the imposing lion's head only inches away was startling; perhaps there were more complex truths to Mr Zhang than Jongdae had anticipated. He hoped indeed that was true.

"Yes, a pleasure." Yixing glanced down then back up Jongdae's body, the amused quirk of his lips never retreating.

His gaze was slow, calculated, and Jongdae basked in the attention as long he could. The host tilted his head and looked off to the side, pretending not to notice Yixing's continued stare. He traced a finger downwards, starting from just behind his ear and trailing down his neck until his cravat blocked the path. When he gave a coy glance back, Yixing was smirking down at his glass.

The spell was broken when the third-wheel cleared his throat airily. Jongdae had hoped the Chinese vampire would have read the mood and politely taken a hike, but that had never been Luhan's modus operandi.

"Well, I'd hate to take any more of your time," Luhan said, looking at Jongdae with his stagnant, porcelain smile. The Korean vampire believed his words wholeheartedly. "And I'm sure your other guests are feeling awfully ignored. You'd hate to be seen as an inattentive host..."

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Luhan.” Jongdae’s tone was brittle as he dismissed the older vampire, turning to Yixing with a restrained smirk. The latter was watching the exchange with mischief in his grin, but he also tapped his middle finger against his glass of champagne; the delicate peal of his ring echoing with a crystalline cadence that spoke of boredom. “After a night with me, nobody feels neglected.”

A laugh. The purl of a breeze through windchimes. Yixing made no attempt to hide his humour, instead focussing his gaze on Jongdae and Jongdae alone. There was no hesitation, no bashfulness. Jongdae almost felt his dead heart beat again from the sheer excitement of the hunt.

“Until next time, my emerald,” he said. A slow, deep bow was given in Yixing’s direction, then Jongdae was off again. Whilst fluttering across the timber hall to greet Seoul’s eldest vampire, the host still felt the weight of eyes on him. It left a warm chill to settle up his spine alike to the ghost of fingertips.

⛋

Jongdae’s sociability was a focussed instrument, tuned to accommodate each shift in mood and every dip in atmosphere. Nobody, dead or alive, had ever worked the crowd like Jongdae could. And even if he were to ever be staked, his cunning cleverness and adaptability would be praised eternally thereafter.

It was much like a dance, the way two – or even more – interacted within a high-class social assembly. The excited tempo of a polite disagreement, the berceuse of clinking wine glasses, the languorous silence of one harmonising with another’s crescendoing anecdote. Jongdae’s personal favourite was the stilted staccato of umbrage taken at a particularly offensive remark, not that he indulged in them often. Restraint, within all its iterations, was the very foundation for polite society.

Kim Minseok, of course, understood this almost as much as Jongdae himself. The eldest vampire of Seoul always had a ring of underlings circling him like a personified crown, but Jongdae always managed to break through to reach the man at the centre. Everytime the two spoke, Minseok seemed gravely interested in what the younger had to say, but perhaps too intimidated to ask for further elaboration. He would smile and nod for minutes on end before always having to attend to something or someone else. As the eldest of Seoul, he was extremely busy and Jongdae could both empathise and sympathise with the burdens that came with being of higher rank.

After another such interaction, Jongdae allowed himself to become swept up in the dance of socialising once more. It was familiar, an elegance he had the privilege of observing through experience. His words, his movements. Acceptances of praise, responses of gratitude. Jongdae never failed to inspire himself with his precise skill.

It was around the twentieth guest that the act began waning. Nods were more frantic, contributions more concise. The music suddenly felt too slow, as though he was trying to cha cha to a waltz. But it wasn’t like him to be out of step with his surroundings, wishing for the pace to pick up and time to spin faster.

A searching glance anchored his gaze on a very likely reason. Zhang Yixing had his own small crowd, clustering like vultures over a prize. The group congregated nearer the buffet, all glimmering smiles and swirling champagne. Yixing spoke, and the crowd laughed. It was a fake sound, even though Jongdae couldn’t hear it over all the distance. Clarinets were playing, and their screeching pitch was likely reminiscent.

Turning back to his own conversational partners, he only caught the end of a sentence.

“-rather drab, I would say.”

Another vampire, thankfully, jumped in so Jongdae didn’t have to.

“I couldn’t agree more. I’m not sure what she was thinking hosting in a barn, I thought the theme was a _rodeo_ before someone told me otherwise.” Jungmin, ranked one hundred and eleven, was stuffed in a hideous 20’s style beige peaky blinder. He was ultimately not worth mentioning, let alone speaking with. Jongdae only acknowledged him because he was Joohyun’s second – _more useless_ – shadow. “I dare say we can all agree Junmyeon and Kris’ magical tea party theme last year was far more respectable. And enjoyable.”

Jongdae nodded, opening his mouth only to be cut off before he'd even begun. It was Joohyun who beat him to it, vocalising her agreement with a sudden hum.

“They’re much more well-versed in the art of hosting than guileless Hyeonah.” Joohyun’s speech was like the necklace she wore: a string of sharply cut diamonds that glinted threateningly under harsh lighting. It also had the similar trait of being less intimidating when you were rich. “It’s cruel to compare them though,” she said. “That’s like racing a stallion against a legless donkey.”

Her laugh was the ring of a moistened finger trailing a glass rim. Clear, lacking any imperfection. Unnerving. Blood red rose petals clung to her textured bustier, but Jongdae couldn’t help glancing at her forest green lamé skirt. It rippled with each slight movement she made, demanding his attention only to slow to a stop. Rinse and repeat, as if it were teasing him on purpose.

“Quite!” The amused voice was masculine. Jungmin, then. “Wouldn’t you agree, Jongdae?”

The silk that was once in the corner of his eye was now all he saw, washing waves downwards as the third-ranked vampire adjusted her stature. It was too dark to be emerald, more of a moss or juniper green. A cheap knock-off: too dark, too shimmery, too diaphanous.

Jongdae was too distracted, all the same.

"Of course," he heard himself say. He forced himself to raise his gaze to the eyes of his companions, but his vision was slightly unfocused. "You have to give the poor woman some credit though. It wasn't a terrible idea," he continued. "Some people just don't have the skills necessary to follow through on their… plans."

"Guileless and incompetent, then, I suppose." More piercing laughter. "Those who can't follow-through shouldn't even try."

Jungmin continued his comparison across recent years’ annual convocations, while Jongdae took the chance to look back over to the buffet. Minseok had passed by, attracting scavengers like a magnet. It left Zhang Yixing alone as he plucked a cube of opaque red jelly from the extensive variety of vampire-appropriate refreshments laid out. Hyeonah’s idea for a rustic event hadn't been entirely misplaced, but Joohyun still had a point. 

“You’ll have to excuse me,” Jongdae proclaimed, giving no mind to Jungmin’s guillotined sentence. He nodded politely with a smile to Joohyun, who looked back with a stern face and raised eyebrow, before sauntering off in his direction of interest.

While aware his behaviour could be interpreted as rude, Jongdae also knew that his usual display of decorum, as well as his dazzling ability to hypnotise anyone who spoke with him, would be more than enough to smooth things over. The pair would definitely notice his absence. Of course, he was the light of every party he attended. But everyone knew he was admired, and that he wasn’t able to stop to talk with individuals for long. He was a treasure: a gift that needed to be shared evenly.

“We meet again, my emerald.” Jongdae drawled the words when he got close enough, lowering his tone as he stared at the other vampire’s back. The green velvet stretched over his broad shoulders, a lawn covering fertile soil below.

There was red on Yixing’s lips as he turned, painfully casually. The jelly had stained his mouth. If Jongdae handled the situation correctly, he could be lucky enough to help clean it off. “I see you’ve enjoyed my jell-O,” he said. “Derived from organic O type blood, naturally.”

The Chinese vampire cleared his throat quietly, licking his lips as he spun his body to face Jongdae head-on. There was no mistaking the amused light that glittered in his eyes. Jongdae had him halfway obsessed, already.

“The finger food isn’t deplorable, I’ll give it that.” Yixing collected his glass from the table, again pinching the delicate stem of the flute as though it were a precious thing. “The champagne’s much better, though.”

“Ah, my magnificent r-_o_-sé. A showstopper, if I may say so myself.”

It was bold, Jongdae knew. But if he had Yixing where he thought he did, he might just pull it off. Without a second thought, Jongdae reached out and drew the champagne flute out of the other’s grasp. Yixing watched as the host sipped at his peach liquid, surprise eclipsing his slight smirk.

There was no distraction worthy of Jongdae’s attention as he stared at the subconscious bob of Yixing’s throat. Shatrov’s _Hills of Manchuria_ faded out and the tapestry of voices yet again unravelled to a muted quiet, all but ignored. Not a hair was out of place on the pretty vampire’s head, but the crimson that laced his lips hinted at a disastrous mess underneath. All Jongdae had to do was find the right thread, and pull.

“How about–”

“Yixing, there you are!” The grating tone that halted the host’s speech was at a level so nauseating it could have only originated in the maw of one particularly repugnant creature. “I was beginning to think those young fangs were going to tie you up and serve you as an after-dinner snack.”

Jongdae couldn’t stop the drop of his shoulders or the scowl from darkening his expression at the sudden appearance of Luhan. The older vampire smiled as though he’d gotten away with the most impressive heist. And, perhaps he had.

“I was just amusing myself before the main entertainment arrived,” Yixing replied. His tone was cool and unbothered, as if he hadn’t been on the precipice of submerging himself in Jongdae’s hypnosis moments before. He gave a small glance to the host, his exterior confident and collected, but there was a deep longing in his eyes only Jongdae could decipher.

“Yes, well. I expect you’ll be waiting a long time for any such entertainment.” Luhan leaned over the buffet table, eyeing the options before he turned back with pursed lips. “Good food, too.”

Petty drivel never roused Jongdae’s spite, he was far too sophisticated and self-assured for such acts of insecurity. When it came to Luhan though, anything was fair game.

“Don’t forget, good company,” he interjected. Luhan finally turned to look at him, his whole expression turning sour as Jongdae returned the champagne glass to Yixing. “Seeing as you seem so intent on following Kris’ guest around like you were sired to him.”

A curt nod to Yixing, that the vampire reciprocated unhesitatingly, was all he gave before Jongdae strode in the opposite direction from Luhan.

He needed time, and a plan.

⛋

"While his life mission has always been to detest me, he usually wouldn't consider being in my presence a worthwhile cost – even in an effort to ruin my evening."

Jongdae stood betwixt Junmyeon and Kris as they watched the curlicue of the cellist's wrist as he played along to _Voices of the Spring _by Johan Strauss II. There was disciplined magic in the strict yet fluid motion, and Jongdae sighed with the violins.

"He's trying to sabotage my efforts with Yixing, I tell you." He continued when only pitiful whines from an oboe answered his call, "Junmyeon, is there nothing you have to say on the matter?"

"Beyond that you spoke over my favourite part?" Junmyeon sounded flat, but the faint smile that still softened his face told of his patience. That was how Jongdae knew he'd get away with sending the older vampire a vexed look. "Fine. I would assume he still hasn't forgiven you for calling him an… _ahem_ in front of the top ten at our last meeting."

“A what? I don’t recall talking to him at all at your tea party.”

At that, Kris leaned over towards Jongdae's ear, though didn't lower his volume at all. “A _‘stuck up bitch boy’_, was your exact wording, I believe.”

"Odd," Jongdae replied, pointedly ignoring Junmyeon's disapproving gasp at the vulgar language. Standing close to the orchestra at least gave the benefit of privacy. "I have no recollection of such an occurrence. Doesn't even sound like something I'd say."

A rise in pitch of the waltz hid the aggressive slapping of shoes against the floorboards. It was only when the voice called out that Jongdae noticed another presence right behind him.

"You arrogant asshole!" Do Kyungsoo growled the words in his ear. When Jongdae startled into turning around, the younger vampire stood stiff with crossed arms and hardened eyes. "What did you do to Sehun?"

"Oh Sehun? The prissy little thing?" Jongdae spoke with perplexion woven in his tone, his confusion evident. "I put him on door duty, of course. Somewhere his face won't be distracting my guests."

Kyungsoo didn't seem pleased with the answer, and dismissed the attempt at an explanation with a glare. "You know waiting isn't what I'm talking about. What did you say to him, he's been avoiding me all night."

"Oh yes, because I make sure to bad mouth you to everyone I talk to. It's very high on my priority list."

"Now, Jongdae…" Junmyeon spoke up with his firm parental voice, letting the sentence trail off into a non-threatening warning. The way he didn't specify anything, nor even turn his gaze from the orchestra told of his lack of interest. He'd most likely spoken out of reflex more than anything else.

"Seriously, Kyungsoo," Jongdae continued with a sigh. He watered down the smirk and dropped the volume of his voice to match the hesitant and shaky harmony between the violins and harp. "Maybe he doesn't like you because you turned his best friend."

"You know I didn't mean to! He asked to be turned, and I thought that if I pulled out early enough–"

"Tsk tsk tsk, Twelve." Jongdae interrupted, feeling the self-satisfied smile creep up into his expression once more. "Everyone knows the pull out method is just a myth," he said. When Kyungsoo frowned at him again, he sobered up. "Of course _I_ know you didn't mean to, but neither of the other two do. You just gotta give him time and explain it to him when he's ready to hear it."

Kyungsoo still looked visibly uncomfortable, but the fact he didn't verbally disagree gave Jongdae the assurance that he'd been right. It was so typical of everything that Jongdae came to his friends with a problem, only to help everyone else with _their_ problems. He wondered to himself if perhaps he was a little too selfless.

"Speaking of well-intentioned advice…" Kris broke his silence, looking from Kyungsoo to Jongdae. "Have you considered that perhaps Yixing isn't actually all that interested in you?"

"Of course not!" The tenth ranked vampire felt a sudden heat burst in his chest. Whether it was anger or offense he didn't stop to evaluate, letting his thoughts tumble forth with no restriction. "The very notion is preposterous!"

"Sorry to derail this line of conversation," Kyungsoo lifted a hand in apology to Kris before turning back to Jongdae. "But you just said 'preposterous'. I get you asked everyone to speak all old-timey tonight, but that’s too far."

"It's my party, I get to decide!" He snapped back, allowing some of his frustration to leak into his countenance as he regarded Kris. "And I think a more appropriate question would be whether Zhang Yixing is _too_ interested in me. I mightn't be able to escape him after tonight."

"Yeah. Right." Kris seemed almost as though he didn't believe Jongdae, but there was no time to press the matter before the vampire swathed in white and gold continued. "Knowing Luhan as I do, I think a promise to put a good word in with Minseok is all that's required to gain his forgiveness."

The use of the word forgiveness was ridiculous, seeing as there was no proof Jongdae had ever done anything offensive to Luhan. And even if he had said some crude things to him in the past, it wasn't as though the Chinese vampire was any more innocent. There were plenty of instances where Jongdae had only retailated in defence of himself.

It seemed it would be a difficult choice he had to make. Was he willing to swallow his pride in order to get Yixing alone? He wasn't quite sure.

⛋

"So, you see…" Jongdae shone his winsome smile to the barricade of Luhan's expression. "I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot… or several feet."

The Chinese vampire swirled his fortified wine around his glass, watching the whirlpool he created with amusement on his lips and victory in his eyes.

"Is that so..?" The pair stood to the side of the room. Jongdae had managed to snag the older's private attention during the hectic movement as a group of vampires decided to start ballroom dancing. He felt fidgety just watching them. "I can't imagine how… Your unwarranted animosity speaks for itself, really."

Luhan was being purposefully difficult, he was clearly not going to let the Korean get away without groveling. It was so predictable of the Chinese vampire. He had always been a selfish, jealous man who wore spite like a second skin.

And before he knew what he was doing, Jongdae bared his teeth in a flare of agitation. “You stuck up bitch boy!” he hissed, quick to school his expression and whip a hand to cover his mouth should it attempt to divulge any more unhelpful truths. “I'm so sorry about that,” he immediately lied, “I have absolutely no idea where that came from.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Luhan's tone was flat but the curl of his lip indulged his clandestine smugness.

Taking a quick glance around the hall, Jongdae caught sight of Yixing by the main entrance, laughing along with Kris and Junmyeon. He looked alive, a posterboy for impassioned delight. He nodded as Junmyeon gesticulated vigorously, responded when Kris seemed to ask him a question, and took dainty sips as the other two momentarily got lost in their own short discussion. There was something that urged Jongdae to go stand next to him, to fill the gap at Yixing's side and fix the symmetry. It was a dangerous desire, one that was yet to be fully unpacked, but spurred him on all the same.

"Listen, Luhan," Jongdae said. There was a defeated sigh that escaped alongside his words, uncovering a layer of vulnerability under his voice. "If you do this one thing for me, I'll… try to be less hard on you."

Luhan pursed his lips in an overt display of consideration. The caricatural act in and of itself gave Jongdae a pretty good guess as to his response.

"I can't say I find the offer awfully appealing… You're company, in any state, can be terribly draining."

The cream and pink stripes along the repulsive suit churned and Jongdae felt nausea twist in his abdomen, and not for the first time that night. But hopefully for the last.

"Fine," he said. "I'll commend your good character and sociable wealth to our eldest member, Kim Minseok."

At that, Luhan's mask finally faltered.

"I– I have no idea what makes you think…" Cracks smoothed out and regality again blanketed porcelain. "Okay, alright. I'll accept your proposition. Only to be done with this conversation, if nothing else."

"Naturally," Jongdae drawled.

"Naturally," Luhan repeated.

"Good."

"Good."

Despite Luhan's collected exterior and the way he'd already begun to turn away and look for new company, Jongdae smiled. In the end, he always had the Chinese vampire like a bare-necked human in his arms – right where he wanted him.

By the time he’d done another quick tour of the room, intent on not leaving his guests entirely Jongdae-less, Yixing had yet again moved on from his last conversation. This time, Jongdae found the Chinese vampire brightening the side of the hall, standing between the orchestra and the converging formations of guests as they danced in synchronized rhythm. Yixing looked like a forest in early spring, the soft chandelier ambience setting him aglow like blooming leaves in the sun. His jewelry glistened and dripped light like melting snow in the warming weather. His dark hair was a deep wave under a frozen lake, one Jongdae would only have a fifty percent chance of crossing successfully before the surface broke and he was submerged into the chilling abyss below.

It was only when Yixing’s now more pink than red lips began mouthing something, sculpting both words and fantasies, that Jongdae noticed he was with someone _else._

Chanho was next to him, his smile too friendly and animated for just a waiter. Jongdae had to give him proper recognition though, he’d nailed the stiff posture and flat cradle of his champagne tray at some point during the night.

“My resplendent jewel, I hope my staff aren’t intruding upon your patience.”

Both vampires turned to look at the same time. Something shriveled in Jongdae’s chest when he noticed that Chanho seemed the only one pleased by his appearance.

“There’s no need to burden yourself with such concerns,” Yixing said, his gaze back on the swirling figures in the centre of the hall. They’d gathered more attention now, with people either joining in or standing to the side to watch. “I’m sure as the host there’s a lot on your mind as is.”

“Not just as the host.”

Jongdae bit the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t meant to say that. When he glanced to the side, Chanho gave him a curious look, as if expecting him to elaborate. He didn’t.

He also couldn’t bring himself to regret it when he heard the delicate windchime of Yixing’s laugh again.

“We were talking about how nice it was of you to dedicate the party to that vamp who died here a couple years back,” Chanho said a moment later, responding to Jongdae’s scowl with a twitch in his smile. “Er, Sir Mr Jongdae.”

Yixing frowned at the title, and a childish groan clawed at the base of Jongdae’s throat. He swallowed it down, passing it off as a small hum. He had no clue how either Kyungsoo or Sehun put up with Chanho, though frankly, he knew little about the dynamics between those three.

“Yes, Luhan told me he was the tenth eldest in Seoul,” Yixing continued. He turned his body away from the dancers, giving full attention to the conversation. “Before he was killed in a fire in this very ballroom… and then you became the tenth member.” As he spoke, his head tilted in a way Jongdae had noticed dozens of times within the night. This time, there was something vaguely threatening in the way it sent the silver lion’s head into a wide arc. The emerald eyes burnt synthetic candlelight into his vision when they caught the right angle. “What was his name again?”

Jongdae remembered the arrogant attitude, his near-constant fragrance of myosotis. He could picture his secretive eyes and his assured touch. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t recall,” he said. “But there’s a plaque for him around here somewhere.”

A hum, and dark eyes looked away. Jongdae took in a deep breath. There was still an uneasy prickle over his shoulders, so he turned to the waiter.

“What did I tell you about loitering? I think it would be best for you to move along now, Chanho.”

Before the young creature of the night had time to flee as requested, Yixing spoke up again, lifting a half-empty flute from the waiter’s tray.

“Chanho? Did you just call him Chanho?”

“Well, yes of course. They may be only staff, but I treat everyone with equal resp–”

“His name’s Chanyeol,” Yixing intervened. His tone, no matter how acerbic, was just as appealing as he took a satisfied sip from the glass.

Jongdae had to take a moment to digest the words, unable to tell if the other had been joking or not. He turned to Chanho himself, the question itching behind his teeth when he saw the guilty expression the younger sported.

“Yeah, sorry Sir Mr Jongdae, I didn’t know if I should tell you or not.” A shrug. “I thought you might’ve been doing it on purpose.”

In the moments following, no words were appropriate. Instead, Jongdae glowered until _Chanyeol_ had vanished from in front of him. A myriad of horn instruments laughed at him as the host tried to regain stable breathing.

All attempts at a good impression had been ruined throughout the night, either by Luhan or, now, Chanyeol. Not to mention his other friends who had all willfully neglected to correct him on the new vampire’s name. Perhaps Kris was destined to be right… Had Jongdae been–

"May I have this dance, _Sir Mr _Jongdae?"

When he looked up, Yixing's champagne glass was missing and his hand was open in invitation. Jongdae had planned to be the one to ask for a dance, but that had been before he thought the opportunity had all but passed. Based on the rise of his cheeks and spark in his eyes, Yixing was most certainly sincere in his offer.

Jongdae finally felt the chilled glide of his palm against the other vampire's when he placed his hand in Yixing's grasp. His skin was just as smooth as he'd expected, but not quite as soft. It was firm and still like it had been carved by Michaelangelo himself. Pulseless, but lifelike enough to replicate the essence with noteworthy ease. All of Yixing was slow and calculated, but Jongdae was never one to scare easily.

"I would love a dance, my emerald."

Under the golden chandeliers, amongst the crowd, the two began to waltz as the beginnings of _My Sweet and Tender Beast_ glissaded into apparition. The song was one Jongdae knew all too well, and as the melody picked up, the familiarly fast tempo thrummed through his chest as his surrogate heartbeat. The arm ensnaring his waist was sure and confident as the pair began to arch into more bold twirls. He had planned on leading, but Jongdae realised too late he was dancing to a pace he hadn't set. The blood red walls and golden trimming blurred, bodies of colour and movement mixing into one unimportant backdrop. How they weren't bumping into anyone, he couldn't discern.

Even while held against the glittering marvel, feeling the crisp velvet underneath curious fingertips and moving alongside the object of his distant fascination, Yixing was still as untouchable, somehow even more intoxicating. He leaned into his next step, his footwork light and measured as he gently maneuvered Jongdae into the next position. His jewelry swayed with the rhythm but his hair remained in perfect place. Jongdae had barely realised he was staring, barely digested the fact the moment was actually real, when the focus of his gaze spoke up.

Yixing leaned closer to his ear and the hair on the back of Jongdae's neck stood on end in immediate reaction. His hot breath was the first sign of warmth since they'd met, with the experience as flustering as it was unexpected.

"Perhaps I should stay in Seoul a little longer," he purred. Blinking his eyes until they yet again could make out the individual grains in the hideous flooring, Jongdae swallowed thickly. "After all, if I became a permanent member of the Seoul society I hear I'd be the tenth eldest here."

The symbols joined the violins and piano forte in a blinding ricochet of climax. Jongdae tripped over his feet for the first time.

"But– Wait–"

The host stumbled again, but Yixing pulled him closer to his chest in an embrace not entirely typical of a waltz. He smelt of flowers. _Forget-me-nots._

"Ah, fuck."


End file.
